"*Yawn*"
I had just woke up at 07:00. It was so early, nobody was awake because inklings don't generally get up that early.
I am different, after all! I felt different too, like a complete new person...
I sat up in my bed and stretched my tentacles out in front of me.
Except they weren't tentacles.
Instead, I saw pale short arms. With fingers. It was so light-coloured, it was a light peach colour.
I stared at them, then tried wriggling them around.
Confused, I decided to get out of bed.
I tried to swim out.
Except I couldn't.
I felt like I was flopping in enemy ink. I felt slow and heavy.
Shocked, I managed to get out of bed. It was a heavy fall.
It shook me hard, I was fully awake. I put my hand to my head and looked up.
As if arms were a big enough surprise, I gaped at what was lying in front of me.
There were feet.
Almost identical to my arms, they were short and light.
'This is getting really weird...' I thought.
So, slowly, while being supported by my beside table, I carefully rose to my feet. Then I tried walking.
Big mistake.
My first step resulted in a face-plant onto the floor. I staggered up and clutched my nose painfully, it was slightly leaking a deep red fluid.
Then I realised that I now had a nose.
'Could this day get any weirder?' I thought hysterically. But that question was about to be answered...
After about five minutes of mastering walking by circling my room, I staggered to the mirror. I looked in. I predicted to see an orange squid, but what I did see made my jaw drop.
I saw a pale face with with waist-length orange hair. I wasn't a squid anymore.
I. Was. A. Kid.
I screamed. I expected to here a 'WOOMY', but instead a human scream came out.
"MOOOOM?!" I screamed anxiously.
YOU ARE READING
Ink Big: A Splatoon Fanfiction (again), Book 2
Fanfiction'She's early.' 'She shouldn't be here.' 'She's too young.' 'Come back in a couple of years, Bubbles.' That's it. Amber had had enough. Amber, who's turned 'Kid' 2 years early, is used to these snide comments and is often overlooked. She also is stil...
